In the early mourning
There is sun on my back
And it drizzles gently
Into the backyard of the dead.
Where the gravekeeper's shovel rusts against the wall
And the dead man has yellow daisies sprouting from his mouth
The grass grows thick on either side
He is a monastery for all the fowl.

love poem

background noise

white kitchen lightn

ing

striking po    se

fractured Chinese Liars

Universal Monkey Jesters

key player

Lantern Hangers

Middle night crisis

television television

nothing. up & up

we are here in this kitchen making funny faces

Belly laughter

he's smoking cigarettes

and We're Calling Each other Names

a r e you there?

or have you come h e r e?

i dance till' bustin' guts on the Persian rugs

and he's

spending 4 am

against your shoulder

whispering

i really like you while she is 

half smiling snoring 

soft

ly.